


From Paris with Love

by serm0n



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:27:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8465338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serm0n/pseuds/serm0n
Summary: [HIATUS] They don't call Paris the city of love for nothing.





	1. La Marseillaise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!! This is my very first fanfiction, I hope you enjoy it and please let me know if you have any constructive criticism!! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Inglorious Bastards.

“Qu'est-ce qu'on fait maintenant?” she whispered. They were trapped; barricaded in a basement wine cellar no bigger than a pantry. The German’s had found the Resistance’s headquarters. Margot and Max had fled to a “safe house”, which was really an abandoned restaurant in the 7th arrondissement. At one time it was a chic little bistro owned by a kind, older Jewish man. Margot would argue that it served the finest croque-monsieur’s in all of France. After the occupation the owner, Denis Bernheim, had his business ransacked and before he had a chance to flee, he was taken away by the soldiers never to be seen again. Now, Margot and Max were sitting in his restaurant awaiting their fate. They’d been surrounded by half a dozen Sicherheitsdienst, the SS security service. “Nous sommes piégés”.

They were officially doomed. No guns, no place to run and Nazi’s quickly approaching. They sat in silence. Max gently placed his arm around Margot’s shoulder nudging her closer to him knowing these might very well be the last moments he spent with his dearly beloved. Margot felt the tears threatening to spill from her eyes and slowly they did, rolling down her cheek one by one.

* * *

  
The cold air hit her like a brick wall. The cellar wasn’t exactly warm, but it sure did beat the snow Paris was currently being blanketed with. She was prepared to fight Nazi’s, but the weather, that was another story. Margot had left her apartment in a hurry that morning without the proper clothing or footwear. She had seen the armoured trucks used by the Germans barreling down her street; she was panicked, and rightfully so. Within the last six months the Nazi’s had really started cracking down on the various Resistance groups and any denouncers of the Nazi Party. As she saw them enter her building, she made a hasty exit through her bedroom window onto a small balcony. She then shimmied down the drain pipe; she couldn’t help but think it always looked easier in the pictures. Both her feet hadn’t even touched the ground as she set off running towards the little bistro. She and Max had always known the risk of being apart of the Resistance and they’d long ago decided to have a secret meeting place if anything were to go wrong.

When the German’s approached the cellar, Margot and Max were forcefully grabbed and taken into the streets, kicking and screaming. It was dark now, night had fallen. The streets were gently lit by the glow of a few streetlamp and candles on windowsills. Margot could make out a man standing across the street bundled up carrying a few bags. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, bald with round glasses. He stared at the scene in front of him in utter dismay. It didn't take long for one of the soldiers to notice him standing there. He yelled at the man to leave immediately or else. In fear for his own life, the man scurried away leaving Margot, Max and the soldiers behind.

Opinion on the German’s at the time of occupation was divided. Some thought it was an opportunity make a quick buck, while others saw it for what it really was. Within a year, most folks remaining agreed; things were bad. A curfew had been put in place, rations were imposed on food and other essentials, and Nazi propaganda filled the streets and the airwaves. There was no way to escape the reality of the war. As the years went on things only got worse; Parisian Jews were ushered to camps, air raids were an ever present threat and regular citizens were forced into labour for the Germans.

There was now a sense of hopelessness amongst the people. After nearly four year of occupation most had forgotten what it was like to not live under someone else’s rule. It seemed as though no one was coming to help. As if France was doomed to become apart at the Third Reich. The threat of losing her identity was enough for Margot to join the Resistance within a few weeks of the occupation. Her first job upon joining up was finding catchy slogans to be featured on posters and newsletters that would be displayed across Paris. This propaganda was meant to captivate the attention of the French people in hopes that they would denounce and fight back against the German occupation.

That was the summer of 1940, this was 1944 and things were drastically different…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qu'est-ce qu'on fait maintenant? - What do we do now?  
> Nous sommes piégés - We are trapped


	2. Hotel Majestic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the follow up chapter. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Inglourious Basterds.

At some while trying to free herself from the Germans, Margot was knocked unconscious by an inpatient soldier. When she awoke she was laying on a red velvet couch in an unfamiliar room. It was large, with a grandiose ceiling and intricate crown moulding; a chandelier hung in the centre of the room. The room was silent aside from the grandfather clock ticking away, but Margot could make out faint voices from just beyond the walls. Normally she would have panicked but her head was pounding and she couldn't focus. The sun light streaming in through the windows was distracting. She was tempted to search the room, the desk looked particularly intriguing. Margot stood from the couch to take a better look at her surroundings. The room was luxurious, but plain; no personal touches, no family photos or knick knacks of any kind. A quick look around confirmed her suspicions, she was in a Nazi operated building. The desk contained stationary with the Parteiadler, the formal emblem of the Nazi Party, as well as several German books. From the window, she could see the Arc de Triomphe, it was a beautiful sight. Just then the doors to the room opened.

“Margot” a man spoke.

Margot turned at the sound of his voice. “Papa?” she whispered softly.

* * *

Margot felt like a small child about to be scolded for eating too much candy or staying up past their bedtime. She hated running into her father. Every meeting she’d had with him over the last few years was calculated and planned. When her father was in town, she’d arrange to have a night out at the cinema with low-ranking soldiers and airmen, as if it was a normal occurrence. For Margot, those nights were a way to convince her father that she was a good girl who supported the Reich. Feigning support for the Nazi’s meant, her father would take her out to dinner with the Party’s High Command. She dined with captains, corporals, colonels and admirals. A few years ago, she’d even accompanied her father back to Berlin to dine with the Führer himself. As uncomfortable as those evenings were, they were a great source of information. After a few drinks, most men became loose lipped, spilling war secrets and anecdotes about the state of the party. Margot had been using her father, a colonel in the security service, to procure information for the Resistance. It had finally caught up to her.

Margot was in Major Hansen’s office, a close friend of her father’s. One of Major Hansen’s men had recognized her as Colonel Landa’s daughter. The soldier had brought her back to the German High Command at the Majestic Hotel to await further instruction. Perhaps she was a spy secretly working for the Germans, or maybe she really was a traitor, either way the young soldier preferred to ask his superior than to shoot the daughter of a high-ranking officer. Major Hansen had contacted Hans right away, wanting to keep his finding secret. He locked Margot in his office until Hans arrived, trying to keep the situation on a strictly need to know basis. It would be an embarrassment to the Party to find out that the daughter of a high-ranking officer not only didn’t support the cause but that she’d been helping the other side all along.

After a few moment of silence, Hans began to speak, “Hello my dear. Isn’t it odd that we find ourselves here?” he laughed. Margot couldn't bare to look him in the face as he continued to speak “You’re a smart girl Margot, you must understand the embarrassment you’ve just caused me. Truth be told, I don’t quite know what to do with you. You’ve greatly disrespected me and you have abused my kindness” he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was upset now. “I just don’t understand why. Why you would be so foolish? It’s silly really” he spoke.

“I’m sorry papa” Margot said, still unable to make eye contact.

“You’re sorry? What good does sorry do now? You’ll have to pay for what you’ve done, I cannot let you’re actions go unpunished” he said as he moved to exit the room.

* * *

“Berlin?! Why?” Margot spoke angrily.

“To be married of course” Hans replied matter of factly.

“I - no, I refuse. You simply cannot order me around like that!”

“Ha! Have you already forgotten my dear, you’ve committed treason.” They both stood staring at one another.

“I care about you Margot, you will always be papa’s little girl. If I don’t take you away from here you’ll go back to that crowd of communists and get yourself in more trouble and I can’t guaranty I will be able to get you out of it next time.”

“And who am I to marry in Berlin?” Margot said after a few tense moments.

“That is to be determined. We’ll find you a nice young officer to court”

“I’ve already got a man I love” Margot pleaded.

“Forget about him ” Hans’ voice was tense.

“Papa, I can’t. I refuse to leave him behind. I love him” as those last words left her lips her father’s hand collided with her cheek.

She’d made him angry, so angry that he’d slapped her. It had taken her by surprise. He’d never hit her before. He adjusted his uniform before exiting the room, leaving Margot confused and afraid. She hadn’t seen Max in nearly 36 hours since they’d been taken from the cellar. She missed him. Her father had assured her that Max was still breathing and that the High Command was currently interrogating him but she had her doubts. Max was French-born to a Jewish father and an Italian mother. In the early days of the war he was able to obtain fake papers to make it appear as if his father had been a Frenchman. Margot knew the danger Max was currently in; a Jew sitting amongst Nazis. If they found out he was Jewish and collaborating with the Resistance he’d be killed on the spot. At the very least Max would be send to prison for his participation in any activities not in support of the Reich.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Margot is speaking with her father, the conversation is meant to happen in German. Unfortunately, I don't know much German and I don't trust Google Translate to do it for me. I also thought it might be too much to translate in the end notes so I opted to keep it in english.
> 
> And fear not, we will soon encounter the basterds! I intend to make this a 30+ chapter fanfic so I need the first 2-3 chapters to set up the story.
> 
> Thanks again and I hope you enjoyed!!


	3. Adieu, mon amour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter; hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Inglourious Basterds

It had been nearly a week since the cellar incident. Margot was preparing for her departure. She would be escorted to Berlin, where she would be put up in a hotel. Her father would join her in a few weeks to help pick a suitable husband. Margot was decidedly miserable. She had spent most of the last week locked in a hotel room. She hadn’t seen her father since he’d slapped her; she was positive he was avoiding her. Her father’s assistant, Wilhelm had been in to confirm the move and provide her with a suitcase full of new clothes, toiletries and a few books.

As she made her way out of the hotel, she felt the eyes of every soldier on her. She wanted so badly to crawl out of her body. Margot didn’t think they suspected anything. Wilhelm had assured her that the situation was being kept under wraps. Only half a dozen people knew of her treason.

Margot suspected the young soldiers were staring, hoping to be introduced to her. She was beautiful, intelligent and polite, not to mention her father was a high ranking member of the part. She was every young Nazi’s dream.

* * *

I retrospect she should have known it would end like this. This was a war zone. Blood and guts were expected. Knowing that war was her reality didn’t make it any easier. Max was gone. Major Hansen had personally executed him on behalf of Colonel Landa.

Soon after leaving the Hotel Majestic, Margot’s driver, Private Anton Müller, pulled into an abandoned building on the outskirts of town. Waiting for them were a badly beaten Max, Major Hansen and two of his men, as well as her father and Wilhem. She couldn't bare to see Max in such a state. She tried running to him but was forcefully grabbed by Anton. She searched the room frantically looking for help. At that moment, with nothing more that a confirmation nod from her father, Major Hansen stepped forward pulled out his gun, aimed it at Max, and pulled the trigger.

Those few seconds seem to last forever. She cried out his name, hoping it was all a dream. Everyone else just stood around unfazed by the murder that had just occurred. Margot couldn’t help it, she burst into tears and collapsed to the floor. She cried so hard she could no longer breathe. She isn’t sure how long it took but eventually she stopped crying. Anton still had a hold of her; her body had gone limp in his arms. Her father slowly began to approach her.

“I hope you understand why I had to do this” he spoke softly. “I need you to understand the gravity of what you have done.”

Silence. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“I love you Margot. You may not realize it now, but I’ve done this for you. You’ll be better without him.” When he was once again met with silence, he sighed, shook Major Hansen’s hand and walk out of the building.

“What should we do now?” Asked one of Major Hansen’s men.

“Clean him up” Major Hansen said “And as for the girl, the plan hasn’t changed. Bring her to Berlin”

And just like that, Anton and his partner carried her away to the car and Hansen’s men got to work disposing of Max’s remains.

* * *

It was at least two hours before anyone said anything. They’d been driving through wooded areas and small villages.

“Are you hungry? Do you need to use the restroom?” Anton asked. He was quite handsome, as was his partner, Private Weber. They couldn’t have been a day over 21. Margot didn’t doubt they were Major Hansen’s men. It was evident that this was their first serious assignment; they took care in her transport and followed protocol to a tee.

“We are going to stop in Saint-Quentin. There is a nice bistro in the town centre, all the boys recommend it! We will stop to get some food and fuel up. Let us know if you need anything.”

No doubt they knew she was Colonel Landa’s daughter; they were far too polite. She wondered for a moment why they must have thought of the scene with Max. Did they pity her? Or did they also think she was a traitor?

When they got to Saint-Quentin they let her out of the car and escorted her to the bistro they’d been discussing in the car. The restaurant was a hang out for German soldiers on their way in or out of Paris. Margot imagined that before the war this would place would have been great for family lunches and romantic date nights. They ate in complete silence with only a few words exchanged between the partners about which route they should take to Berlin.

It was nearly nightfall as they headed towards the Belgian border. The road they were meant to take through town was covered in debris from a fire. “Shit, where do we go now?” the Anton uttered. “Turn around, we’ll find another way” Weber responded.

* * *

“What the fuck?!” Anton murmured.

“Pull over, I’ll check it out”

Margot could see this road was also blocked. It was night now, but the headlights of their car illuminated the stalled vehicles abandoned on the road. There was no doubt in her mind that they belonged to the German troops. For nearly 15 minutes Margot and Anton sat in silence awaiting the return of Private Weber. As the minutes went on it became increasingly obvious that something had happened. And then there was a gunshot. Margot and Anton froze in their seats.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Those were the very last words she heard from Private Anton Müller. She could see the panic in his eyes. He didn’t want to leave the vehicle. If Margot had to guess, she’s say Private Müller wished he could be back home with his family.

He pulled a large rifle from the space near him before exiting the car. Margot could see him standing infant of the headlights, looking lost, unsure of which direction to take.

The quiet terrified her. It had been nearly 10 minutes. She was completely alone; she could make a run for it. The thought was there but she couldn’t move. It was cold out and she was scared. She took a few deep breathes and realized it was now or never. Private Müller had left a handgun on the front seat which she didn't hesitate to take. Bundled up, she exited the car with gun in hand, not too sure where she was headed. Margot began walking slowly at first to avoid making any noise, and as the cold air hit her she began walking faster and faster until she could barely see the headlights.

“Stop right there. Put your hands up. Don’t you dare move!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colonel Landa's discussion with Margot as well as the conversation between the soldiers all happen in German, but again I'm not knowledgeable enough to translate it all.
> 
> And fear not, we meet the Aldo, Donny and the boys in the next chapter.


	4. Les Bâtards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally meet the Basterds. Dialogue heavy. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Inglourious Basterds.

“Stop right there. Put your hands up. Don’t you dare move!!” Margot froze. English? The man sounded American. “Turn around!” Another voice spoke, not the same as the first man. As she turned around she was grabbed by the arm. “You’re coming with us” the man said as he dragged her along. Hearing his voice again, Margot knew; the men were most certainly American.

Her feet couldn’t keep up with them. The man dragging her along was about her height but he took big long strides. He had a mean look in his eyes. His partner seemed more calm. He walked just ahead of them securing the area. They had led Margot back to her stalled car, headlights still shining. With just a few more feet they headed down a hill on the side of the road. After a 10 minute trek they finally arrive to the camps location.

Margot was stunned to see a dozen or so soldier standing around. There were 6 men standing guard, circling around the other men. There were 3 Nazis kneeling in the snow, hands behind their heads. Margot recognized one of them as Private Müller and it took no time for him to notice her. Within this circle there were also two men interrogating a Nazi; one of them even had a club of sorts. There were also 7 dead Nazis laying on the frozen ground, their blood staining the snow. Margot was mortified.

“Look what we found” the man holding onto her arm shouted. “A broad! That’s a rare find Hirschberg” one of the men standing guard yelled. The others all laughed. “Bring her down here. Put her with the rest of the boys.” “Yes, sir.” And just like that the man dragged her down near the awaiting Nazis. “Sit down” the man commanded as he shoved her to the ground. She count bare to look over at Private Müller. She should have taken his advice and just stayed in the car.

* * *

The mysterious American soldiers “interrogated” the remaining Nazis and Margot was now the only prisoner still breathing. “That’s it, I’m losing my patience. Bring me the girl” the leader demanded. Margot was practically lifted off the ground by two soldiers before being dropped in front of the other man. He was intense. He had a moustache, a large scar on his neck, and spoke in a nearly incomprehensible accent.

“Do you speak english?” he asked.

Margot nodded, “Y-yes.”

“Okay, good” he looked around at his men, “what’s your name?”

“I-I uhh” she stuttered.

“Doll, you’re gonna have to speak up.”

“I’m” she paused ,“Margot, my name is Margot.”

“Okay, Margot. You got a last name?"

“Freedman” Margot whispered. The soldiers all looked at one another. The leader had taken notice.

“Where are you from Margot?”

“Paris”

“You’re a long way from home aren’t you?” She nodded “What are you doing so far from home? You know you’re about 3 miles from the Belge border.”

She didn’t answer. How could she. She had already lied to them. Freedman was her stepfather’s name. There was no way she risked telling them her real name, if they knew who her father was they’d shoot her on the spot before she even had a chance to explain herself.

“Not in a talking mood huh? Tell you what, if I send my boys away would that make you feel better?” It would, so she nodded.

“Alright boys, you heard the lady, scram. Donny, you stay.” And just like that nearly all the men disappeared except for the leader and his right hand man.

“Donny here is gonna stick around, for my safety and yours” the man said as he smiled.

“Okay” Margot said after a few moments. She was still astounded by the number of bodies laying around. The leader had taken notice.

“Never seen a dead body before?” he questioned sympathetically.

“France is at war. Of course I’ve seen dead bodies” she said rudely. She had taken the leader and his man by surprised. Heck, she had surprised herself.

“Well damn” the leader chuckled ,“I shouldn’t have assumed!” After a few seconds, he spoke again,“I like you Margot, you ain’t so bad.” He put out hand, “I’m Lieutenant Aldo Raine of the United States Army.” And just like that her eyes popped out of her head. She froze up once again. How had she not seen it sooner, all the dead Nazis and what not.

“You alright darling?” Aldo asked.

“You- oh mon dieu” she was nearly hyperventilating, “you’re Aldo the Apache.”

The pleasantries stopped. Aldo sat up straight and stopped smiling. “And how do you know that?”

“The man asked you a question” Donny said, “Answer him.”

“I- you wouldn’t believe me if I told you” she could feel the tears swell up in her eyes.

“Give it a go why don't you”

“I work for the Alliance.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a network. It connects the various resistance groups throughout France.”

“Still doesn’t explain how you know who I am.”

“A few weeks ago, I heard from a British SOE-”

“What the fuck is an SOE?” Aldo interrupted.

“They’re special ops guys. They’ve been parachuting in to set up communications and and coordinate attack plans with the French” Donny stated. Margot nodded.

“He said that the American were sending in a group of undercover soldiers” Aldo stared at her to continue, “I’ve heard from my German sources that they’re been targeted by a group of Americans. They call them the Basterds.” She pointed to Aldo, “Your name came up a few times.”

“You have German sources?” Donny asked. Margot nodded.

“That’s great news. Think you can get us some information, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“I wish I could but it isn’t that simple.”

Donny frowned, “What the hell is that suppose to mean? You don’t even know what kinda information we want!”

“I would love to share the information I do have with you, but unfortunately I cannot procure anymore.”

“Oh come on” Donny nearly shouted.

“You gotta give us something, doll”

“I cannot get you and your men any information. I cannot get information for the resistance” she sighed, “Over the last three months the Nazis have began a campaign to stop and capture resistance members. Last week the Alliance’s headquarters were targeted and two dozen of our people were sent to camps. I’ve spent the last week being held as a prisoner at the High Command in Paris. That man” she said pointing to Pvt. Müller corpse, “was tasked with taking me to Berlin.”

“You don’t look like a prisoner” Donny frowned.

Aldo ignored him, “Why aren’t they sending you to the camps too?”

Margot took a deep breath. Speaking out was unwise, but what other choice did she have.

“Because of my father.”

“Who the hell is your father?”

“Colonel Hans Landa of the SS.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing around with the timeline. Realistically, in January of 1944 American troops would have been nowhere near France but to begin with this film isn't historically accurate so I don't feel so bad... 
> 
> As for the resistance group Margot is involved with, I just kinda made it up. Picking a real historical resistance group involves way too much trouble because of political leanings and stuff. I don't have time to get into in this fic. That being said I realized while doing research that a group already had the "Alliance" name but I liked it so I stuck with it. Sorry for any confusion.


	5. Ma Vie Française

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Inglorious Bastards.

“You’re a fucking Nazi”

“I am not! My father-"

“He’s the fucking Jew Hunter”

“Calm down Donny” 

“Aldo, she’s a fuck-"

“Enough! Take a walk sergeant” Aldo ordered. Donny had become livid at Margot’s statement. “I can’t believe this shit” Donny murmured as he walked away. It was quiet for a few moments, “I’m sorry” Margot finally spoke.

“About what?”

“I’m not sure” she weakly admitted. Aldo smirked as he pulled out a cigarette. He took his time before speaking again.

“So you’re name’s Landa not Freedman. Why’d you lie?”

“I didn’t." Margot said, a little too quickly "Not entirely.”

“How so?”

Margot spent the next 10 minutes explaining to Aldo that her parents had divorced when she was young and had very little contact with her father over the years. Her mother had remarried 15 years ago. Her new husband, Léon Freedman, was aFrench born business man of Jewish decent. She explained that since the war had broken out she’d lost most of her family and that she’d reconnected with her father when he came to France.

“I was already working for the resistance. I saw an opportunity and I took it. Being close to my father let me obtain a great deal of information.”

“It’s a lovely story really, I’m touched” Aldo was now pacing around her, “but how do I know you’re telling the truth? For all I know you could be a German spy.”

“I’m not!”

“But you could be. If I let you go I need assurances that you ain’t gonna go to the Germans.”

“Believe me, I have no desire to run to the Germans”

“That ain’t good enough.”

Margot felt defeated. How was she suppose to prove she wasn’t the enemy? Then came the lightbulb.

“The Brits!”

“What about them?”

“The Alliance has ties to Britain. The SOE can vouch for me!”

“You sure about that?”

“I’m betting my life on it, aren't I?” 

Aldo stared at her for a moment, “Fair enough. I’ll see what I can do. You’re gonna have to give me a minute here doll.”

“Of course, take your time.” Margot felt a weight lifted of her shoulders for just a moment.

Aldo whistled, “Donny! Come back down here.” And just like that the preverbal weight seemed to come back.

“Boss?”

“Watch her for a minute will ya? I gotta go have a talk with the boys.” Donny gritted his teeth. “And don’t hurt her or nothing. Poor girls already been traumatized.”

“Like I give a shit” Aldo chuckled.

“Just watch her Donny. I’ll be right back.” 

“Whatever” he mumbled.

Donny was heavily armed. Besides his club, he also carried several rifles and handguns. Margot had to admit he scared her. He was sitting across from her right where Aldo had been. She wondered what Aldo was discussing with the other soldiers. She doubted Aldo would actually contact the British. They were probably plotting her death and she couldn't help wonder why they wouldn’t have Donny with them. From what she understood, he was Aldo’s right hand man, the second in command to the Basterds. Speaking of Donny, she couldn’t help but wonder…

“Are you the Bear Jew?” She said abruptly, taking them both by surprise.

“Umm, yeah. I am.”

“…huh, okay.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” 

“Nothing”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing?” he said defensively.

The were staring at one another. He was trying to scare her and Margot was trying not to let herself be scared. Donny was big and intimidating; he stood tall and stoic. He sent shivers up her spine.

“I’ve heard a few stories” she said, maintainingeye contact, “Most German soldiers don’t believe you really exist. They think the Basterds are a myth.” She paused. He was still staring. She couldn’t maintain eye contact, “Everyone in the resistance has heard of the Basterds. You’re heroes to a lot of people.”

“The Nazis deserve it” he stated bluntly.

* * *

 

“So we’re suppose to keep her overnight. Ain’t that kinda dangerous?” Private Zimmerman asked.

“I wanna go on record and say I think this is an awful idea and we shouldn’t do it. I mean for all we know she’s a spy.” Utivich spoke.

“I don’t get why we cant just shoot her and move on.” Hirschberg added.

It was safe to say the Basterds were not responding well to Aldo’s proposal. He wanted to keep Margot at the camp with them overnight so they could head to town the next morning to contact the Brits. 

“Number one, it ain’t dangerous. We have her easily outnumbered and I doubt she could get the upper hand on any of us. Number two, Utivich you think everything is dangerous, get over it. And number three,” he said pointing at Hirschberg, “no we can’t just shoot her. She's an asset.”

“How do you figure because I see her as a huge liability.”

“She’s an asset because she’s a bargaining chip. If she's working for the German there’s no say what they might do to get her back. We can probably get something out of it.” Corporal Wicki interjected. 

“Exactly hat he said" they all turned to look at Aldo,"The decision is final. I ain’t making plans for the future but for tonight she stays.”

* * *

It was evident that Donny was not pleased with Aldo’d decision. He had let his lieutenant hear an earful. Donny truly believed that Margot’s presence was putting the team in danger. He was seemingly unaware that Margot could hear the names he was calling her, that or he genuinely didn't care.

The Basterds had a nice little set up. Deep in the woods they had set up a few tents for the overnight. Normally they would spend the cold winter nights in abandoned buildings. This time they were on their way back to the Parisian woods from Berlin where they had rescued their newest member, Sergeant Hugo Stiglitz.  Margot had heard in the papers the story of Hugo Stiglitz. The German paper reported him as an awful man and a traitor to his nation. The resistance reported the story quite differently; for them the Sergeant was a poignant reminder that the Nazis weren't safe from their own people; it was a silver lining if you will.

Margot couldn’t believe how much she had gone through in just one day. Her day had began in a cozy hotel and it had quickly gone downhill from there. Now, she was laying in a tent in the middle of nowhere surrounded my crazy American soldiers who would have preferred she not be there, and that was putting it nicely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to get the story of the ground first so I posted day after day but unfortunately I wont be able to keep that up due to school/work, so every 5 or so days I'll be posting a new chapter.


	6. SOS aux Britanniques

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update, I got sick this week and had lots of homework!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Inglourious Basterds.

_French Backwoods, February 8th 1944_

Aldo had left for town before Margot had even woken up. He had taken Wicki, Utivich, Zimmerman and Sakowitz with him; they were headed to an outpost in a nearby village. They’d gather some more supplies, call the Brits for intel on Margot, and finally, Aldo figured he might as well update the boys back home too.

Aldo had left Donny responsible for everyone still at the camp. Donny had Kagan and Hirschberg securing the area while Ulmer took Stiglitz for a “get to know ya” stroll to collect firewood. Donny had made it his personal mission to look after Margot at the camp. He didn’t like her very much and he got the sense she didn't like him either.

* * *

 It was so bitterly cold Margot could barely move. Sleeping in a tent in a forrest in the middle of winter wasn’t ideal. She knew the longer she sat there the harder it would be to get up. She hoped to get out and move around little as a way to get her blood flowing.

Margot was surprised to see the sun shinning when she exited her tent. She wondered what time it was.“You’re up” she jumped at the sound of his voice. “We got some food over there by the fire pit if you’re feeling hungry” Donny said. Was he being nice to her Margot thought; she was confused. Donny surely caught on because he quickly added, “Aldo took some of the boys into down this morning. They’re calling the Brits on your behest” he spoke those last few words with contempt. “Okay, thank you” Margot said hesitantly as she made her way towards the fire pit. 

* * *

 “…I would go as far as to say that she has been instrumental in the some of the attacks carried out by the Allies against the Germans” the nasally voice on the other end spoke.

“If the Nazis found out exactly what she’s been up to-“

“They’d kill her on the spot” 

Aldo sighed, “So tell me, what am I suppose to do with her?”

“Well, that’s up to you and your men”

“I need options. I’m a little out of my depth here Captain”

“You can have her tag along-“

“HA! That’s not happening”

“Fine. That leaves you with two options. Send her back to Paris or send her to Berlin”

“Jesus, this broad is turing into a headache”

The man on the other end laughed, “Lighten up lieutenant, it isn’t so bad! Truth be told if I were you I wouldn’t worry too much about her. Send her on her and be done with it”

“If she’s who you say she is, I ain’t sending her to Berlin” Aldo thought for a minute, “It’ll take at least 5 days to walk back to Paris in this weather and that’s assuming she doesn’t freeze or starve to death”

“And assuming the Nazis don’t get to her first” the man added.

* * *

 It was truly unnerving, the way he was watching her. Margot knew Donny was doing his job but he just sat there watching her eat. She couldn’t take it anymore. She threw down the piece of stale bread she’d been chewing on.

“What do you think is going to happen if you look away for a minute?” Margot could swear he’d just smirked,  “How long until Aldo gets back?”

“Don’t know”

“Fantastic” she sighed sarcastically. Donny rolled his eyes. Annoyed, Margot picked up her bread and started eating again. After a few moments she spoke again, “I have an idea”

“Fantastic” Donny said imitating her words from before. This time it was her turn to roll her eyes, “I thought we could get to know each other” 

“I don’t think so” Donny scoffed

Ignoring him, Margot continued “Fantastic” she emphasized the word, “I’ll start. What is your military rank?” She stared at him waiting for an answer. After nearly a minute of utter silence Margot sighed and got up from the table. She took the hint; Donny didn’t trust her.

“Staff Sergeant” Donny said. Margot stood still in her place. “My turn to ask a question” Margot slowly walked back to her place at the table. 

“Go ahead” she spoke.

“If, and thats’s a big if, if you are telling the truth,what is the most important information you’ve gotten for the Allies?”

“The Blockhaus Watten” she didn’t hesitate.

“What is that?”

“It’s a Nazi bunker hidden deep in the Cap et Marais forrest, it’s between Calais and Dunkirk. The Nazis are storing weapons there. They aren’t stupid, they know if the Allies plan an attack they’ll come through the English Channel” As she spoke Donny removed a map from his coat pocket, “I visited my father there about 9 months ago while the place was under construction. It looked like a concrete box from the outside and some of the walls I saw were about a meter thick. When I got back to Paris I passed the information of what I had seen to my SOE contact. They bombed the place half a dozen times since”

“Where is it” Donny said handing her his map.

“Right here. We aren’t that far from it actually” she said pointing to a wooded area on the map. Donny penciled in some notes where she’d pointed. She sat in silence as he wrote. 

“Okay your turn, what else do you want to know”

“Why the bat?”

“I like it” he gritted his teeth

“It’s unconventional. There must-“

“My turn” Donny cut her of. She could tell she’d struck a nerve so she let it go, “How did you get your information back to the Brits, and who exactly is your SOE contact” Just at that moment Ulmer and Stiglitz returned to the camp with firewood. Donny got up to help them, “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

* * *

 “Bring her out here” Aldo had returned to the camp with the rest of the boys and he’d made up his mind. Donny had been the one to go get her in her tent and bring her to the group. She felt as if she was on trial.

“Good news Margot! They Brits vouched for ya!” Aldo spoke gleefully. Margot let out a loud sigh of relief, “As a matter of fact the fellow we talked to had some high praise for you. Wicki, what was that word he used?” Aldo asked. 

“I believe his exact words were ‘absolutely invaluable’’”

“Ahh yes! I do believe that was it. Now you see Margot it took us quite some time to get in contact with someone who acknowledge your existence. Everyone we spoke to initially could not confirm nor deny whether you were even a real person. But we got lucky, a nice fellow 2nd Leftenant Carr” Aldo said in a mock British accent, “told us you did in fact work with them. He got his Captain on the phone, which is lucky for you. The Captain had a positive opinion of you but here’s the thing” he paused for a moment, “the Brits don’t give a shit about what happens to you now.” Margot felt her heart sink, “Until now you’ve done some great work for them but turns out getting caught by the Nazis is something they don't care for. You’re useless to them now that the Nazis know you work with the Resistance. I’m gonna be honest with you Margot, it’s up to me what happens now; you’re my problem now” there was another long pause before Aldo tossed a rucksack to her feet, “You’re not a Nazi; we don’t kill innocents. The bags got a canteen, a compass, a map, food for 3 days, a week if you ration properly, and everything else you might need. You can spend the night but as of tomorrow morning you’re on your own.”

“Thank you” Margot managed to say.

“Don’t thank me yet”

And with that everyone retreated in separate directions while Margot pondered her next move.


	7. Bonne Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm back with a new chapter. Hope you enjoy!!!   
> The italicized section is a dream sequence/flashback!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Inglorious Bastards.

**_Saint-Denis, February 16th 1944_ **

“Restez calme et ne faite pas trop de bruit. Vous serez en sécurité ici”

“Merci Père Lescalle”

“De rien mon enfant”

Margot settled into a cot on the floor of the church before blowing out the candle by her side. She placed her head on a makeshift pillow and let her mind drift of into certain sleep.

* * *

“Stop it!” she whined, stomping her feet “Give him back Christian”

“Make me” he said sticking his tongue out before running away with her precious teddybear. She’d gotten him as a replacement gift from her father; the family had taken a trip to Italy that summer and Hans had forgotten her stuffed giraffe on the train forcing him to buy his daughter a new toy. She named it Mr. Randolph after the family’s grumpy next door neighbour who seemed to only get a long with little Margot. The teddybear was dapperly dressed for a stuffed animal; he had on a waistcoat, a dark green cummerbund, with a gold monocle.

“Christian, be nice to your sister!” their mother commanded. Her words fell on deaf ears. Christian continues to run around the yard carelessly swinging her teddybear by its arm.

“Mama, I want him back. I want Mr. Randolph” Margot cried to her mother. Her mother kneeled by her side, “I know schatzi. You’ll get him back soon” They stood in silence for a few minutes as Margot’s tears dried up.

“Why is he so mean to me?”

“Your brother loves you and you need to understand that. You’re his little sister. He might tease you but he will always be here to protect you.”

* * *

Margot had last seen the Basterds over a week ago. She had slowly made the journey back to Paris taking shelter in abandoned buildings along the way. The journey was dangerous and the closer she got to Paris the larger the Nazi presence became. She knew venturing into the heart of Paris would increase her chances of capture, so she settled for hiding out in the Basilica of Saint-Denis on the outskirts of the city.

The priest overseeing the basilica, Father Lescalle, had been hiding Resistance members and all others seeking shelter in the basement of the basilica and in his own private quarters next door. Margot had been lucky enough to be hidden in the church’s crypt amongst the remains of ancient French monarchs such as Louis XVI and his famous wife Marie Antoinette. Margot couldn’t help but be impressed, albeit slightly terrified of her surroundings. She was hiding within history its self.

Making the trek into central Paris from the basilica was proving to be more difficult than anticipated. Margot knew waiting for nightfall was her best option. On her second night in the basilica Margot rested and drew up a map of potential routes to travel in the city, avoiding spots she knew to be heavily guarded by Nazis, as well as any buildings she could take cover in. On the third night she set out for Paris. She had planned to travel to a cinema owned by her friend Shosanna or as her papers read, Emmanuelle Mimieux. Margot had come in contact with her through her friend Marcel who worked at the cinema.Realizing his life was in danger with the impending German takeover of France, Marcel joined the French Resistance in 1940 where he met Margot for the first time. In the spring on 1942 Marcel introduced Margot and Shosanna. He had explained to each individual about the others past; Margot knew Shosanna’s family had been killed by her father, and Shosanna knew Margot was Hans Landa’s daughter. It was a rough introduction; Shosanna didn’t easily trust strangers especially those related to Nazis.

Two months after meeting, Shosanna was nearly caught by a Nazi for fake papers while walking home from the cinema late at night. Luckily for Shosanna, Margot was leaving a bar nearby with a few drunken soldiers, gathering intel for the Resistance, when she spotted her and sauntered over. She announced herself as the daughter of the one and only Jew Hunter. She drunkenly berates the soldier for stopping her dearest friend and for daring to question her identification. She had caused such a scene that the soldier had ultimately let Shosanna go and even apologized for the inconvenience. Margot had insisted on taking Shosanna home for all her trouble, explaining that she would be safer that way. Together the women rode back to Shosanna’s place in a black Mercedes driven by a young Nazi. Shosanna sat in utter silence while Margot sang along to nothing and talk the driver’s ear off in German. Shosanna didn’t understand what was being said but from the sound of it Margot was talking nonsense. The driver laughed but didn’t say much, likely assuming Margot was drunk and therefore could entertain herself.

When they finally arrived at Shosanna’s place, Margot stumbled out of the car telling her driver to wait for here, claiming she needed to use the ladies room. Once inside the apartment Margot dropped the charade, the drunken mess was no more.

“Let me see your papers” Margot demanded.

“Excuse me” “You heard me. I want to see your papers”

“Why” Shosanna hesitated, “ You already know they’re fake”

“True, but that’s because I know who you really are. It isn’t good news that a soldier questioned your papers. It means there is something wrong with them”

“Here” Shosanna said handing over identification. Margot took a moment to inspect them.

“Overall, not bad but I’ve seen better. The spacing seems off and the font doesn’t look quite right but the biggest give away is the stamp. It isn’t the right colour” Margot said handing the papers back over.

“What do you mean it isn’t the right colour? It looks fine to me”

“The stamp on your identification is red and it says it was issued in July 1941. Unfortunately at that time that this piece of ID was allegedly issued, the Germans were using purple ink” As Margot spoke Shosanna lowered herself onto the couch contemplating the what could have happened had she been caught for good.

“Listen Shosanna,” Margot said crouching down near her friend, “You didn’t get caught. Right now that’s the most important thing. You absolutely cannot let yourself focus on what could have been; it’s a dangerous train of thought” Shosanna nodded to her new friend, “I can get you some better papers. It’s late now but we can do it tomorrow morning. Do you think you can have Marcel open up the theatre?”

“Of course. What should I tell him?” Shosanna asked.

“It doesn’t matter. You can tell him whatever you’d like. I’ll pick you up at 8 if that’s alright?”

“Okay” she hesitated, “Thank you”

Margot couldn’t help but smirk, “You’re welcome Shosanna”

* * *

To this day Shosanna couldn’t quite figure out why she trusted Margot so much. Maybe it was because of the papers, maybe because Margot hated her father, or maybe because Margot put life and limb on the line in hopes of stopping the war. Either way, Shosanna knew Margot was a loyal friend and a trusted confident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Restez calme et ne faite pas trop de bruit. Vous serez en sécurité ici” - Stay calm and don't make too much noise“  
> "Merci Père Lescalle” - Thank you Father Lesalle  
> “De rien mon enfant” - You're welcome, my child
> 
> About the ID cards; I couldn't find a definite explanation/description of how ID cards worked so I made up the thing about the colours. I used two different photographs of ID cards from that time to justify my shitty historical inaccuracy. Sorry!!


	8. Bonjour Shosanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a while but here is a new chapter! Hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Inglorious Bastards.

_Paris, February 19th 1944_

During the war Margot had come to appreciate the little things in life; a warm bath, a black market rack of lamb, and pantyhose. She also come to appreciate the kindness of others a great deal more.

On this such morning her appreciation was directed at Monsieur Jean-Claude Morin; a plumber originally from Chambord near the city of Orléans. Monsieur Morin had come to Paris with his wife shortly before the war to care for her aging mother and ill father. His wife, Lydie, and her family were of Jewish extraction and not long after occupation they were killed in a synagogue bombing. From that day forward, despite the grief in his heart, Monsieur Morin did what he could to help those in need, from Jewish refugees to resistance fighters.

Margot had first come to know of him shortly after his wife’s death. The Alliance was attempting to coordinate the safe passage of over 100 families out of Paris and they desperately needed drivers to smuggle them to Spain were they would go on the next leg of their respective voyages. Monsieur Morin had volunteered without question and with that he gained Margot’s admiration for the first time.

Through the transport of these families Margot had gotten to know Monsieur Morin. He told her all about the love of his life Lydie, his hometown, and his plumbing business. He’d also confessed that despite always wanting children of his own, he now counted his blessing knowing very well that this world was not one suitable in which to raise a family. The mere thought of what could have happened to his fictitious children brought him to tears.

During one of their talks, Monsieur Morin and Margot exchanged information about resistance friendly doctors, churches, restaurants, and hotels. Amongst one of Monsieur Morin’s recommendations was the Basilica of Saint-Denis. Nearly 3 years to the day after having that conversation Margot was lying in the back of Monsieur Morin’s truck driving away from the Basilica. She had gotten lucky and her plan of sneaking into Paris by foot at night was no longer needed. On the previous day Father Lescalle had requested a plumber to inspect some outdoor pipes that had been damaged by gunfire. When Monsieur Morin dropped by Margot didn’t hesitate to ask for a ride, confident he would say yes. They’d decided that mid-afternoon was not ideal to make a getaway to Paris so they planned on meeting at dawn the following morning.

The rear of the truck was uncomfortable but Margot knew better than to complain. As always she appreciated the small things in life.

* * *

Margot had always considered herself a clever person. After all she’d fooled her father and his fellow officers for the last 3 ½ years. But her attempt to break into her friends cinema was proving to be more difficult than anticipated. Monsieur Morin had dropped her of not long ago; it had been a short but bumpy ride into Paris. He had left her two blocks away from the cinema fearing a Nazi presence on the cinema’s busy street. Margot had made her way through the alleyways, sheltering her from the view of any passersby. After Shosanna’s identification fiasco she’d given Margot a key to her theatre as a sign of trust. Margot kept the key on her at all times and often helped Shosanna in the opening and closing of the building.

Unfortunately with the SS hunting her down Margot had left the key behind at her apartment. She was now struggling to break a window leading to the maintenance area of the cinema. Once inside she found her way up to Shosanna’s office just by the from entrance of the cinema. She knew it would be long before her friend arrived for the day. Since the Nazis had invaded, they had set up a curfew for residents. Everyone was to be home by sunset which in the dead of February was just after 18h00. It didn’t give business, especially theatre, a great deal of time to be open. Shosanna made the best of the situation and opened the theatre early every morning to garner as much business as she could.

* * *

It was just after sunrise when Shosanna strolled into the cinema. She was surprised to see the door to her office ajar. For a moment she panicked; had she been caught, was it someone looking for refuge, was she being robbed? Before she could answer her own question, Margot popped her head out the door grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey Shosh”

“Oh my god!! You’re alive” Shosanna ran into her friends arm.

“I’m okay. I swear” Margot said hugging Shosanna with all her might.

Before either realized, they were both laughing and simultaneously crying into each others arms. As Margot pulled away, wiping tears, she began to explain to Shosanna what had happened over the last 2 ½ weeks. Everything from running form her apartment, meeting up with Max, being captured, her father finding out, Max’s assassination, her (almost) trip to Berlin, the Bastards, and her journey back to Paris.

“…and now I’m here” Shosanna stared in silence. Margot understood it was a lot to take in, “Please say something”

“I’m just glad your okay” Shosanna said snapping out of it.

“Me too. Honestly, I’m just happy to see you. I have no idea what to do next; wherever I go I’m trapped”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together” Shosanna spoke with a smile on her face, squeezing Margot’s hand lightly, “We always do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm sorry it took so long but long story short I had some family drama going on and then school started backup again and I got writers block and now I'm back so...yeah. Sorry again!!


	9. Je rêve de Lucerne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Inglorious Bastards.

“Umm…I’d have to say Spain” Marcel spoke up hesitantly.

“Ha! I told you” Shosanna clamoured.

“It’s nice that you think that” she said pointing at Marcel, “but I would much prefer Switzerland to Spain.”

“What do you have against Spain?” Marcel asked

“Nothing, it’s a lovely country…”

"But…” Shosanna asked.

“Well, I don’t have any papers and I have far more connections in Switzerland than in Spain.”

“Lucerne is at least a weeks walk away and that’s assuming you find shelter along the way, you don’t cross paths with any Nazis, and that the weather perks up.”

“Spain is also a week away. I’m risking my life either way.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t just stay in Paris” Shosanna questioned.

“And live where? Do what?”

“You can stay here in the cinema.”

“The cinema?! It’s a hotspot for Nazis every Saturday night!”

“Fine. Come live with me then.”

“Shosanna I can’t ask you to make that kind of sacrifice.”

“You’re one of my best friends Margot. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice.”

“I’m not willing to put you in danger like that.”

“But you were willing to put yourself at risk for the Alliance, for all those families you got out of the country?!”

“That was different and you know it-”

“Was it?” Shosanna questioned, “Because it doesn’t feel different”

“You know what, as much as I appreciate what your trying to do for me you can’t fix everything Shosh” 

* * *

It had only been 3 days since Margot had arrived at Shosanna’s cinema but she was already beginning to get cabin fever. She hadn’t stepped foot outside the cinema and she spent most of her day hiding in the projection room with Marcel eating popcorn. Every night when Shosanna and Marcel would leave she’d have free reign of the place; she’d run up and down the isles of the theatre trying to exert her built up energy. She’d spend half the night trying to device a plan out of Paris. Margot come up with two possible solutions; go to Spain or go to Switzerland. Both were at least a weeks walk away. Spain had tightened border security, and despite being neutral sympathized with the Axis powers; the political climate didn’t make a trip to Barcelona too appealing. Switzerland, while neutral, was at a greater risk of German occupation and going towards Germany seemed counterintuitive; Margot would also have to trek through rougher terrain to get to Lucerne.

It wasn’t an easy decision by any means but either way Margot knew she couldn’t stay in Paris. She had explained it to Shosanna; her father was clever man and by now the Nazis would have found the absolute wreckage the Bastards had left behind. Without her body, her father would know that she’d gotten away. For Hans it would be a waiting game, waiting for his daughter to reappear. He may have been her father but Margot knew how cruel and heartless her father could be, it’s what made him so good at his job. If she stayed in Paris she was putting everyone in danger.

* * *

 “You have to promise me to keep her safe.”

“I know.”

“Marcel, I’m serious. You have to promise.”

“I promise Margot. I’ll keep her safe.”

“Thank you.”

A hug and with a quick kiss on the cheek later and Margot was on her way out of the cinema. She had finally decided to head to Switzerland where she had connections to other resistance groups. It had taken a few days but she had finally convinced Marcel to help her. He had managed to get her some weapons, loads of food, money and anything else she might need. Margot would forever be grateful to Marcel for his help; leaving the cinema she hoped that her gratitude would not go to waste. It was just after nightfall when she left the cinema and headed into the abyss hoping she’d find Switzerland on the other side.

* * *

 Shosanna’s body ached as she made her way out of the projection room. It had been a long day; Marcel had been in and out making repairs to the building and as much as Margot tried she was completely unhelpful so much so that Shosanna hadn’t seen her in hours. Tonight the cinema had shown Alexander Koda’s classis trilogy of work Marius, Fanny, and César. As the last few patrons exited the cinema Shosanna decided that the clean up could wait until the following morning. As she entered her office to grab her coat she noticed a letter gently placed on her desk. Shosanna could feel her heart rate rise as she stared at the envelope with no inscription; she resigned to ripping the envelope open.

_My Dearest Shosanna,_

_If you are reading this then I’m already on my way out of Paris. If you care to know I’ve chosen to go to Switzerland after all. I truly believe it is the best place for me to be, I hope you understand. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye, I just didn’t think I could. This is easier for the both of us. I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your years of wonderful friendship and your patience in dealing with my crazy schemes. Knowing you has changed my life in the very best way; you have truly been the greatest friend a girl could ask for._

_Yours truly,_

_Margot_

_xoxo_

_Ps. Please don’t be mad at Marcel. He is a good man who was only trying to help…_

With tears flowing down her face Shosanna put the letter in her office drawer and looked up the cinema, ignoring the dreadful feeling that she’d never see her best friend again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. The Basterds are back next chapter for good so fear not!!


	10. Paris, comme tu me manque…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Inglorious Bastards.

_Somewhere near Troyes, February 27th 1944_

Aldo wasn’t quite sure where he had gone wrong but the Basterds were currently lost. They’d been trying to get to the town of Troyes to take out the man in charge of the area's battalion but a winter storm had put them off their path. Through thorough interrogation the Basterds had learnt that Lieutenant Colonel Werner Graf held control of a small battalion in the city of Troyes. The battalion consisted of 3 companies, 100 men strong who were tasked with surveilling the department of Aube. The Basterds had already killed half of a platoon while they were on patrol. Aube was a huge area but besides Troyes most of it was farm land and tiny villages. Aldo was hoping that neutralizing the command in the city would make it easier to to get to the rest of the battalion.

“Boss, maybe they were fucking with us, you know. They gave us the wrong information on purpose,” Wicki spoke first.

“Or…maybe we’re lost” Donny countered, smirked at his Lieutenant. 

“We aren’t lost,” Aldo said, “We just aren’t were we’re supposed to be.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“It absolutely is not.”

“If you say so boss.” Donny grinned.

* * *

After several hours the Basterds had finally found an abandoned building in the middle of the forrest that they could use for the night. Aldo and Donny plotted a route to get them back on track to Troyes while Wicki and Ulmer took the first watch.

“What’s the plan once we get to Troyes anyway?” Donny asked casually leaning back in his chair.

“Take out the leadership, and then…” Aldo trailed off, sighing as he looked at the map before him.

“Everything okay boss?” Donny hesitated; minutes passed before Aldo spoke up again.

“Yeah Donny, everything is good.” Aldo said looking up at Donny.

“If you say so.”

“It’s funny really,” Aldo paused for a moment, dropping his pencil onto the map, “I can tell the guys are sick and tired of being here but none of ‘em are willin’ to say so.”

“Of course they are, why would they wanna be here? It’s cold and dangerous. Morale’s just kinda low right now but once the weather clears up things while pick up,” the two men exchanged a knowing look; the conversation was taking a deeper turn, Donny's smile faded, “It’s tough Aldo. Half these guys are barely old enough to drink and this is their first experience in the war. Take Utivich for example, I don’t think the kid ever left New York before the war and now he’s out in the middle of nowhere scalping Nazis. These guys miss their ma’s cooking and taking their gals to the pictures. Shit just ain’t the same out here. they know there's a purpose to being here but they don't see an end to it which I get- I mean we're out here killing Nazis but there aren't any other Allied troops with us, kinda makes it seem like a suicide mission.” 

Aldo took a moment before responding, contemplating everything his Sergeant had just told him. “I get that, but these boys gotta be in tip top shape, it ain’t easy out here and we gotta have each others backs,” Donny nodded in agreement, “We’ve only been ‘ere a couple a months and the boys aren’t set to hit the beaches until the summer. We gotta stay alive till’ then.”

“Things will get better once we get out of this damn forrest, I'm sure of it” Donny said with a smirk, patting Aldo on the shoulder.

“You think you’re real funny don’ t ya?” Aldo chuckled.

“Funniest one of the bunch.” Donny echoed as he exited the room, leaving his Lieutenant to find a way to Troyes.

* * *

Margot could hear the clamor of the traffic headed her way, no doubt coming from German vehicles. The way the ground was shaking, the rumbling in the air Margot knew they had at least one tank in their midst. She was crouched between bushes off the main road desperately trying to blend in with her surroundings as not to alert the Nazis. Margot had set out for Switzerland nearly four days earlier and judging by the ground sh’ed covered since, it would be at least another week before she set foot in Swiss territory. The trek out of Paris was far more difficult than she’d expected; it was nothing like making her way into the city. So far, Margot had spent most of her time hiding from Nazis in abandoned building, caves and makeshift trenches.

As Margot sat amongst the bushes she prayed that the convoy would drive past her and she’d be able to continue her journey. Today was not Margot’s lucky day. The tank she’d hear earlier stopped mere feet away from her. She instinctively sunk herself deeper into the bushes being careful not to make any noise. The thump of a soldiers boots jumping down from the tank nearly scared her to death. Margot felt as though her heart would pop out of her chest at any moment. She shut her eyes tight as the soldier boots rubbed the gravel in front of her. She only opened her eyes when she could no longer hear the footsteps. The tank blocked her view but the could hear some idle chatter and truck doors slamming on the other side.

_“Listen up men, the farmer says he saw them running through here last night. They couldn’t have gone far in that time. I want everyone on the lookout.”_

_“How should we proceed Lieutenant?”_

_“Sergeant Miller you can take your men north and Sergeant Krause you take your men south. Send squads out as you see fit. We meet at back at the circle at 09h00. Understood?”_

_“Yes, sir!_ ” Several men shouted in unison.

Margot heard some confused shouting before seeing men head out past her. One man returned to his car with an escort. She was able to steal a glance at him and noticed that he was a lieutenant-colonel. If a man of such high rank was out here, it wasn’t good news. Margot stayed hidden until their footstep became muffled in the distance. She climbed atop the tank in front of her to get a better view of the troops marching away. Luckily it was still dark out and nobody would notice her from far away. She could make out about 25 men headed in each direction. She wondered what they could be doing out here…

Still careful not to make noise, Margot climbed off the top of the tank and made her way to some of the other parked vehicles; it was almost too easy. The soldiers had left their trucks unlocked with weapons inside. Margot double checked her surrounding to make sure no men had been left on watch before she opened the first truck door. Inside she found two pistols and a Beretta submachine gun, as well as a grenade. What Margot really needed was ammunitionBefore leaving Paris, Marcel was able to procure for her Karabiner 98K rifle and an Astra 400 pistol. The guns Marcel had given her were already loaded but besides she had no extra ammo. She grabbed what she found, shoving it into her backpack, before moving on to the next trunk. 

Margot was sitting in the second truck rummaging through the centre console when she heard gunfire in the distance. Her body stiffened and for a moment she stopped moving all together. Besides the crows squawking as they flew away and her on breath, it was dead silent. She sat frozen in her place watching her breath in the cold air. Another burst of gunfire brought her out of her state as she quickly made her way out of the vehicle. Margot could here the gunfire and it sounded louder than before, like it was getting closer. She ran with all her might, away from the trucks and deeper into the forrest. There wasn’t anywhere to hide, so against her better judgement she climbed into one of the trees to have a clearer line of sight. By the time she’d settled into a little nook on the tree she could make out men approaching in the distance; they were shouting in German. Margot swung her rifle of her back and readied herself for whatever might happen next. As they got closers she noticed the soldiers weren’t alone, in fact they had their guns aimed at a few prisoners, prisoners Margot recognized. One of the soldiers put a man on his knees and aimed the gun at his head. Margot didn't hesitate; she aimed her gun and pulled the trigger…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:  
> -For non-French readers "Departments" are like states or provinces. Aube is a department and Troyes is a city within Aube.  
> \- The italicized speaking is meant to happen in German.


End file.
